


Mainecoon Grey Supplementals

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Series: Mainecoon Grey (Catboy Jon) [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Caretaking, Catboy Jon, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mostly plotless, Pining, Platonic Love is Just As Important As Romantic If Not More, Supplementals, wholesome mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: This is going to be my fluffy, plotless feel good supplemental of MCG. You will probably have to read the other one to get context, but it's not really required
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: Mainecoon Grey (Catboy Jon) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101290
Comments: 135
Kudos: 126





	1. A Moment Of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This is where Jon Love Is Stored
> 
> This takes place after the events of chapter two!

That night they are all at Martin’s flat. His is sparsely decorated, but he has a pullout couch that had been in storage after they brought his mother to the home. So two or three people could sleep there, and someone could take the bed. Either way, they were there, after getting back from the mostly somber lunch. Martin goes to get the kettle, and starts it up. Sasha drags Tim and Jon to the couch, sitting down and just feeling tired. 

They had to pry Jon out of his office chair, and Sasha made good on her promise to scruff him. He had been very cross until she apologized, though she did not also get bitten like Tim, since Jon didn’t want to be a menace to their safety just yet. 

Martin comes back with tea and Jon looks up. He didn’t know it, but his eyes grew wide at the sight of the redhead, much to the secret conspiring Tim and Sasha’s pleasure. Martin sits down after handing them their mugs, next to Jon on the end. They end up using Sasha’s old uni projector to watch something, since Martin didn’t have a TV. 

It had been about a month since they started up with the tradition of staying in a different flat almost every night. There is a healthy amount of clothes that they have of each others now, Jon keeping all of the other three’s clothes in their own drawer in his dresser, Tim hanging up what he could with his excess of hangers, Sasha having a designated pile for each of them, and Martin had folded the clothes and left them in the bathroom cabinets. 

They are watching reruns of old horror movies, when Martin turns to see Jon doing something with his hands. When he looks closer he see’s Jon kneading the blanket that Martin had offered. Having read up on a few behaviours out of curiosity, Martin feels a stab of happiness that he made the flat comfortable enough. Sasha and Tim were cuddled on the other end, after Tim had started a mini pillow war. 

They were comfortable in their pile of limbs, and Jon was comfortable with his little blanket. 

“Hey can you understand the cats meowing in this?” Sasha asks offhandedly.

Jon sighs, still kneading his blanket, “They are saying, ‘Treats for doing good.’ and ‘We are good boys.’ “

Tim laughs, “Aww that’s cute.”

“They have a bit more vocabulary than the Admiral.” Jon sounds disgruntled, and then pulls out his phone. 

Martin and Sasha looked over to see that he was texting Georgie to read to the Admiral.”

Georgie replied, “You can do that when you come over again.”

Jon almost pouts, but does not, texting back, “Fine, but he needs to know more words. He is dignified.”

Martin could almost hear Georgie laughing on the other end, as if this were a call and not a text conversation. 

Georgie: Yeah yeah jon, you’re the only one who can understand him so why does it matter

Jon: It matters to my heart.

Georgie: XD alright.

He puts away his phone and gets comfy in his spot again. Tim lets out a noise as Sasha squishes his chest.

“Hey! You’re crushing me.” Tim wiggles, and Sasha goes limp on him to amplify her weight, “HEY! I am but a feeble little Victorian boy, let me be. Please madam! Watch the hand!”

Sasha snorts, and Jon looks over with a smile in his eyes. Martin is happy to have his friends be comfortable in his flat. As they all sit together, they seem to forget the kind of day they have. Jon smiles, and Martin can hear him purring next to him. The feeling of being watched finally left as they went away from the institute. 

As the night goes on, one by one they all fall asleep on the couch. Tim and Sasha almost falling onto the floor, with Martin leaning against the armrest on his elbow, and Jon curled up in his little spot. 

\-----

Martin wakes up in the middle of the night, the flat is still dark with only the light of the now sleeping projector as a dim nightlight. He looks around, and realizes why he feels so warm. Jon is laid across his lap, curled slightly and blankets tossed around. Martin has to rub the sleep out of his eyes to make sure this is real. Still Jon laid, and Martin pets through his hair, scratching behind his ears and against his scalp. 

It was a cautious moment, and Martin felt like he could stay there forever. The weight of Jon on his lap, still dreamy eyed from sleep, warm and comfortable, the sound of rain on the window.

Poetry could describe moments like this, Martin thinks. Jon has always been breathtaking, and when he’s sleeping the stress lines on his face are smoothed out. His hair falls around him in a messy halo of black and grey, slim hands holding the blanket in a languid grip. Carefully Martin takes the skewed glasses off of Jon’s face, placing it on the table next to the couch. Jon usually had a clean shaven face, but now he had taken to letting it grow, scraggly and still suiting his face. 

He realizes he is still petting Jon’s head when the man twitches in his sleep. He wakes up abruptly, startling Martin a little. His eyes are glowing with the dim lights, reflective as he blinks rapidly. 

“Martin?” His voice is still sleepadled, and Martin cuts down the thoughts of getting used to hearing it one day.

“Yes Jon?” 

Jon wiggles a bit, but looks like he would rather not get up, Martin waits, and Jon stays put, “Did we lock the door?”

Martin has to blink a few times, eyelashes fluttering and confused as to what brought that statement on, “I think so, would you feel better if we checked?” 

He had said we and Martin feels a bit flustered at that, but Jon looks up and nods, “Yes I think it would.” He gets off of Martin’s lap, and Martin gets up to come with him, following until Jon looks at the door. It is unlocked, and Martin locks it, and takes a picture. Just in case Jon worries about it again. Jon looks at him, not saying anything but looking touched.

Then he clears his throat quietly, looking away, “Might want to double check from now on.”

Martin huffs, “I will even take a picture every time, just because.”

Jon nods, and Martin goes back to sitting down. He looks a bit torn, and Martin just shrugged, “I don’t mind, if you were comfortable.”

After a second, Jon picks up his blanket and wraps it around himself, before carefully laying back across his lap. He doesn’t even realize his purring before he goes back to sleep. Martin hums, and then falls asleep to the sound of sound whirring and weight on his lap.


	2. Hurt/Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in a nebulous timezone, it is the one that contains the chapter warnings
> 
> \- Canon typical martins shit mother  
> \- Grief/Mourning a loved one  
> \- Self-deprication  
> \- Migranes/Sensory Overload

Tim sits alone in the office, Sasha and Martin were out on a field mission, and Jon was actually doing his job. But Tim couldn’t stop thinking. He was here, enjoying his life, joking and having fun with people he knew and loved, when his brother was gone. There was guilt in his mind, plaguing him like a blood-sniffing hound, screaming like a poltergeist in a foul movie. He missed his brother, even if he could hide all of that under his joking tone. 

He wanted to stop bad things from happening to the people he knew, and yet he could not change a think. Danny was gone. There were cursed books. Everything was strange and wrong all the time, and he felt the bearing down of the world on his shoulders. The sting of eyes watching his every move. 

He was angry. He was guilty. There is only so long that he can survive with that. 

Something was touching his arm. He looks over to see Jon there, staring worriedly down at him. Tim realizes that he is crying, fat ugly tears rolling down his face. With his perpetually shaking hand, Jon holds out a handkerchief. He takes it carefully, and Jon doesn’t say anything. Tim cleans his face off, feeling weak from the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to wash over him and drown him alive. 

Jon clears his throat, and Tim realizes he has been staring at the floor, holding the handkerchief to his cheek, “Tim do you…. Want to talk about it?”

Tim looks at him and shakes his head. Jon looks conflicted, before coming in close and carefully headbutting Tim’s cheek, holding his arms out awkwardly for a hug. Tim takes in and buried his face in the short man’s collarbone, silently continuing his pity party. 

“No.” Tim says, muffled by the sweater that he thinks Jon stole from Sasha, “One day. One day I’ll tell you, but not… not now.”

“That’s ok.” Jon says, standing there and being a shaky support, “I can wait.”

He feels warm and accepted, Jon had put aside his poking prodding curiosity. It was nice, to just hold and be held. 

\----------

He had gotten back from again trying to talk to his mother at the nursing home, but again she had simply looked at him and thrown something. The nurses had given him a sympathetic look as he left only thirty minutes later. Martin promised himself he wouldn’t cry, not in front of her at least. 

AS he get’s back, he thinks about hiding away, but as luck would have it, someone was still at his flat. Sasha and Tim were out doing whatever they pleased, and Jon was curled on the sofa reading something from some obscure author. He tries to get past him, and somehow succeeds in getting to his room without being spotted. 

At least he thought so, there was a knock only a few second later on his bedroom door. Martin wants to yell at him to go away, but he didn’t want to do that. Not truly. So he doesn’t say anything. 

Jon stops knocking, and he hears on the other side of the door a sigh. 

“I’ll make some tea if you want to come out. If you’d like to talk about it.” Jon’s gruff voice says, and Martin feels a bit touched, before the presence outside his doors leaves and lets Martin sit in silence. 

After a second, he hears a cup being sat to the side of his door. The thin walls makes it so he can hear most things. He contemplates going out, and then gives himself a minute to get up. Then Martin stands up and looks out the door to see a note and a cup of tea. It wasn’t horribly made, he thinks a bit fondly,.

‘I’m here for you’ and a blocky smiley face on the note, finally sends Martin to the living room, where he sits down on the couch. Jon looks up and then gives a questioning face, Martin shakes his head, because he was secretly the king of bottling things up. After a moment Jon scoots over, just to sit next to Martin and starts to read his book out loud. That paired with his emotional exhaustion sends Martin into a peaceful sleep, eyes a bit watery.

When he wakes up Martin finds that Jon had taken to checking over him, letting Martin’s head lay on his shoulder. And again Jon takes up reading aloud when martin wakes up.

Then he looks over at Martin, eyes big and a bit searching, ears flicking, “Will it feel better if I just sit and listen?”

Martin thinks about it, and then tells Jon, and much like his word, he was quiet and listened, before offering his kind of comfort.

\-------

Sasha wanted to rip her hair out at this stupid archive Everything was just so- so overwhelmingly large and messy. She wishes she never took this job, as she glared at the portrait in the bullpen. Her head hurt from how much filing she did, trying so hard to not get sucked into researching these things. 

Somedays she could go hours without looking away from her laptop but today she felt like everything was crashing onto her like boxes of bricks. Her eyes hurt from looking at tiny cursive texts and staring at her glaringly bright computer that was being too shitty to work. It just made her want to throw the stupid thing. 

Her migraine was growing, like static in her ears. She hears the door to Jon’s office open, and she knows that its not the archives one. When that door opens it usually give an ominous creak, but when Jon’s office door opens there is a rush of warmth. 

She hears Jon walking over, the sound of socked feet coming closer, and then there's the sound of a bottle opening. 

“Headache?” No matter how soft the voice she still flinched at any new noises, but she still found it in herself to nod. In front of her is now an ibuprofen and a water bottle. She takes the medicine quickly, and Jon gestures to his office, “You can sleep in there, I will make sure no one interrupts you.”

Sasha looks up at him from her hunched form at the desk and gives a wavering smile, before letting herself get lead to the couch in Jon’s office. She lays down, and feels Jon put a blanket on her, turning out the light and closing the door quietly behind him. It takes only a few minutes, maybe twenty, for her headache to die down and the feeling of being watched left. 

Later she will get woken up by Tim and Martin, who will bring her food and tea. 

\---------

Jon looks down at his clawed hand, pulling the skin away from his lips to check his teeth. Even if he had gotten used to, even starting to slightly enjoy, being a bit more cat-like, he feels disgust at himself. For years he was normal- well as normal as he felt he could be, and yet here he is again, having to mask everything about himself to outsiders once more. His identity would never be something he could keep out in the open, just like when he was younger.

There is worry for the future, what if someone finds out. What if he wasn't human. What if one day he became worse, what if all these little behaviors grew to be his personality, what if he lost himself? What if he became the feral creature that hid underneath his skin, that instinct of biting Tim, of clawing people who got too close. he was a vegetarian before this mess, and now he cant even stomach his old favorite foods. he want's to jump and claim and it was too much too much-

The words were a flurry in his mind, and he hears the door open. It’s late, he should be asleep but he was too restless to do anything about it. 

It was Tim, and he peaked in head in, and noticed the visible distress in Jon’s face. 

“Hey… You alright?” Tim said, coming into the tiny room and closing the door behind him. Jon is shaking, not wanting to be someone who people had to walk on eggshells around. But he always was. 

Tim comes closer, and carefully puts his hand close to Jon, before getting the ok to hug him. Jon wants to hug him back, he does. But he feels like he would claw him, he wasn’t-

“Jon. Hey. What's up?” Tim get’s Jon to sit on the toilet, before kneeling down do that he can see his face. Jon wants to scream.

“I… It’s fine Tim.”

“No it’s not.” His voice is blunt, before Tim reels himself back in, “We can talk about it, we don’t have to. But I’d like to know why you’re upset.”

Jon looks at his hands- not even hands they’re paws, he- Jon shakes his head trying not to feel uncomfortably useless, “I don’t want to not be human.”

Tim takes a second, thinking over his words, “Are you worried about not being the same as before the book?”

He nods stiffly, and Tim continues, “That doesn’t seem to be all Jon.”

It isn't, “... Do you three actually like me? Not because of the whole Leitner situation, but… As a friend? Not as a pet.”

Tim looks horrified for a second, before carefully cupping Jon’s cheek with his hand, something he would do for Sasha and Martin when they were upset, a tactile way to show that he was there for them. 

“Of course we like you, we like you as a friend and accept the differences, not in spite of them, nor because of them. Who else would I talk about arthurian lore with?” He adds the joke at the end, and Jon smiles, finally looking away from his hands.

“Thank you. I-” Tim cuts him off before he says anything self deprecating. 

“Don’t worry about it, ok? We all like you for you. You’re our friend, our stuck up boss, not a pet. Just a little different.” 

Jon nods, his leg is tapping in restless energy even thought he was emotionally spent. Tim notices, “lets go out for a run.”

Instead of vetoing the idea, Jon thinks about it, “Yeah. Let’s do that.”


	3. 'These are MY humans sir'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jon cats around

Tim makes a confused noise, “Jon. Why are you headbutting me?” His tone is not angry, just a bit recondite. The headbutt didn’t hurt- it was just kind of soft bonk right on the middle of his chest.

Jon looks up from where he had just headbutted Tim’s chest, ear flicking as if in annoyance. He then blinks a few times, headbutting Tim again but this time staying there for a second and pulling away again.

“Hm.” He leans back and looks over Tim, mouth slightly open.

“You never answered my question. Why are you rubbing your head all over me?”

Jon looks at him, and then makes a pleased noise, before turning and promptly walking away. Tail swishing and humming proudly to himself. He leaves the room through his office door and then goes back to whatever he does whenever he is not in the mood to hang out.

“Hey come on I wanna know!”

\--------

Martin’s knitting had been interrupted by a headbutt to the leg, Jon was laying on the couch next to him, seemingly trying his hardest to get fur all over Martin’s trousers. Martin put’s down his knitting needles, before Jon grabs his face not quiet carefully, but like he was examining something.

Jon slowly blinks, before squishing Martin’s face in his hands, which made Martin laugh a little, since the look of concentration was slightly adorable. If you had told him five months ago that he would be sitting with his boss/crush - now friend and roommate- on the couch, getting his face held and being comfortable with the closeness, he might have told you to fuck off.

But now it was normal. Tim was just as handsy.

Jon lets out a low hum, before ruffling Martin’s hair. They had all noticed that the more comfortable Jon was getting with himself, the more behaviors he had let slip. He wasn’t changing anymore- now it was like the feline parts of himself just melded with his personality, making him Jon.

After seeming pleased with whatever work he had done Jon clears his throat, taking his hands back, “better.”

“What do you mean by that?” Martin asks, before picking up his knitting again.

Jon blinks slowly at him, before looking like he was questioning that himself.

\--------

Sasha looked over, as Jon rubbed his head against her arm. She looks over at him for a split second and takes that as a sign that he just wants attention without talking, something he had been increasingly better at communicating lately, after a long discussion with all four of them talking about boundaries, and how Jon want’s to not feel like a pet. She cards her hand through his hair carefully and he shakes his head furiously, hair getting into Sasha’s face.

“What has gotten into you?” Sasha teases, and Jon sighs.

“I do not know. I just, feel like…” He takes a moment to think, brain going 404 for a second. “I don't know. It makes me feel... angry that I don't.”

“Have you tried googling it? Maybe the internet can explain this cat nonsense.” Sasha suggests, and Jon then looks annoyed at himself for not thinking about that sooner.

She snorts, taking out her phone, and starts clicking away. Jon is trying to see what she is looking at, being nosy as he was, but she kept pulling the phone away and trying to hide her laughter.

“Sasha why are you laugh- give me that!” Jon wiggles closer to try and grab the phone, before Sasha screenshots something and sends it to a group chat, one that she had made with the four of them so that they could actually plan things a little better sometimes.

He harrumphs and pulls out his phone to check, before seeing a thing called ‘Marking.’

“Oh good lord.” he mutters, hearing Tim absolutely losing it in the other room, said man running into the room.

“Boss have you been claiming us!” Tim is in hysterics, laughing so hard tears are in his eyes. He thinks this is very funny but Jon just glares. “Awww we love you too! Sasha look he loves us enough that he want’s us to smell like family!”

“I hate you, go take a shower.” Jon says, crossing his arms.

Tim does not, instead going over to the couch, and crashing next to Sasha and Jon, “We’re your people Jonny boy!”

Jon looks like he wishes he had different people, before hearing martin walk in with a small but pleased smile on his face. Jon wishes this torment would be over. He also wishes he had been smart enough to google things but, hindsight is 20/20. Tim continues to babble and joke about being Jon’s chosen people.

Sasha snorts, “Possessive of your friends are you, like a little jealous man!”

“Oh be nice.” Martin says, even though he himself is on the verge of being very obnoxiously silly about the whole affair. “But really. It’s sweet.”

Jon huffs, unable to lean away from anyone because he was being swarmed by attention on the couch. He wriggles away from where Tim was now headbutting him, batting away Sasha’s hands, trying not to claw her.

Tim gets off of him, and gets serious for a moment, “For real Jon, it’s alright. It’s like a friendship bracelet but for you. We accept that.”

“Yeah. Never worry about being yourself.” Sasha chimes in.

Jon nods, “Yes I suppose. Thank you though, even if your commentary is juvenile.”

“Rude!” Tim says, going back to being playful after they were all sure that it wasn’t actually them being mean, just teasing. Tim liked to do that now, checkups on things.

Martin sits down as well, but in the armchair just slightly away, Jon thinks he looks very lonely, “I’m glad we know about it now though, I was getting concerned with how often you were ruffling my hair. Thought you had an issue with my curls.”

Sasha snorts throwing her head back, and Jon huffs, crossing his arms, “No you’re hair is nice, objectively pretty-uh. Nice. Good. Good hair..”

Tim interrupts Jon’s moment of struggle, “At least you don't-”

Martin is quick to lean over and put his hand over Tim’s mouth, “that’s enough of that.”

“Stifling my free speech.”

“That’s America love.” Sasha says, and Tim sticks his tongue out at her. Martin rolls his eyes at them, he and Jon sharing a shared fond look about their two silly friends. As Sasha and Tim are arguing semantics and Tim using an awful Texan accent, Jon and Martin have a conversation with their eyes.

Jon then looks like something finally came to him, a thought had just smacked him at ten thousand kilometers per hour. “That’s why the Admiral was telling me to stop headbutting Georgie- oh I have to apologize to him right now.” He pulls out his phone and frantically texts Georgie.

\-------

And if now they all just accepted that every morning that they be would lovingly headbutted well. That was no one business but their own.


	4. Jon just wants a cat tower yall be nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had fun, thats all

Jon was staring at the cat section in Tesco, the others were looking around and he had wandered off. Of course he has a handful of those cat treats- he had not gotten the same brand, as the other brand brought up memories of starving and knocking and squirming, but this kind was cheaper and tasted different. So he chose it over the other one. 

Someone is behind him and he hears a cheery voice, “Hello sir! Are you looking for things for a new cat?”

Jon startles, turning to see a friendly looking woman in uniform, he laughs a bit nervously, “I suppose yes.”

“What kind of cat do you have? I know that usually people get shelter cats but you know. It might help with finding toys.” She smiles and begins restocking while she talks. Jon looks and feels a bit embarrassed. 

“Uh mainecoon, the big kind.” Jon replies, and she blinks.

“Wow, I’m seeing the fur on you now! Must shed a lot, what’s their name?” Her name tag says Manny, and she has a few toys in her hand, “I can recommend these by the way, pet friendly and wont choke them if they chew through it.”

Jon struggles for a second, “Archivist, that his name.” That was the stupidest thing he could say oh he hates conversating with people. Better than telling the nice worker that he was looking at cat toys for himself. Yeah he prefers this actually. 

She doesn’t look phased the slightest, “how cute! I named my cat Beasty because she’s the worst! Anyway, I see you're looking at cat towers?”

He looks at the cat towers and then nods slightly, “I might not get one? The cat’s… Picky.”

Manny nods like she understands, “yeah, I know how mainecoons can get, how big is Archivist?”

“Uh. Well hard to tell with shelter cats?” Please god let him get out of this conversation.

He listens to her talk about cat towers before hearing Tim call, “Jonny boy! I knew you were over here and- oh hello.”

Manny turns and smiles, “Hi I was just helping him find a cat tower for his new cat, are you co-owner?”

“No I don’t trust him with a cat.” Jon says before Tim can start snickering, and Tim gasps in false offense.

“Nah, but we’re moving in with some other friends. I think our kitty would not fit in any of these.” Tim says, and Jon wants to elbow him and hiss in annoyance. 

Manny nods understandingly, “Oh I get that. Good luck with finding something for him thought!”

Tim and Jon watch as she goes off to help other customers and Tim burst out laughing so hard that there are tears coming to his eyes. His laughing attracts the attention of some other people shopping, before Sasha and Martin round the corner.

“I will have to tell you guys soon- just.” he devolves into cackles again and Jon glares down at him. “God I love that so much.”

“I hate you.” Jon says deadpan, and Tim laughs and snorts so loud that it sounds painful. He ends up buying said treats and cat toys, because he can.

When they get to Sasha’s flat Tim is still wheezing, while Jon has told him multiple times that he would bite him again with no hesitation. 

“He told the worker that he had a cat- Named Archivist! I am in tears please that poor lady. Think. We have. A cat-” A wheeze, as he sets down the groceries.

Sasha looked at Jon and then covers her mouth with a fist, but everyone knows she ugly laughing from behind it, and Martin is joining in. Jon covers his face with his hands, “You are all so mean to me.”

\-------

Martin looks over, he and Jon are the only ones awake. They are going to meet with the realtor the next day, and he knows Jon had been drafting the letter to hs landlord about leaving. Martin had been lucky, but Jon had to break his lease. He sees that Jon is on a website looking at cat towers.

“Jon?”

“Yes Martin?” He looks over to see Martin pointing at the cat tower.

He thinks about it, “those would still be too small, even if you’re tiny.”

“I know, I wasn’t going to get one. Just was looking.” He says. Looking away an at the laptop.

Martin snorts, “You’re awful at lying by the way.”

“I am not!”

“Are to.”

“Am not!”

Martin rolls his eyes, scooting closer, “We could build you one.”

“I have no clue how to work tools Martin.” He says, though he sounds very interested.

“I do. Had to fix a lot of stuff, didn’t ever want to hire people you know?” Jon nods, before headbutting Martin’s chest, demanding pets. Martin does so, enjoying that he just ot to sit there with him. He shoves away all gay feelings though. Down they go, hidden away. Never to be seen again. Goodbye.

Jon was purring and Martin smiles, “I can make one, how does that sound?”

“That sounds good, thank you.” He says, before continuing his loud purring and falling asleep on Martin’s chest.


	5. Moving Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gay snippets of these four fools living together. I adore them

Moving into a new house was an ordeal, but at least this one was a fun one. Jon wriggled in the seat of the moving truck that they had to rent to get all their things to the house. He was excitedly watching the road as they went to their house, it was a bit of a punch to the bank accounts but they were pooling their money and making a bit more in the Archives, so it worked. 

Best thing about it was that there were no neighbors, bad news it was a long long walk. They could live with that though, Sasha even dusted off her old car that probably hadn’t seen use since it was cheaper for her to just get on the train. 

Tim grinned and picked up Sasha, “Everyone wait outside i’m carrying you across the threshold!”

“Tim I do not think you can pick me u-UP OK I BELIEVE YOU SET ME DOWN!” Martin was dropped oto his feet as Tim crossed the threshold with him.

“Come here!” Tim grins, and Jon feels a bit like a bastard, and he slowly backs away befoer turning and darting. Tim followed behind and they were laughing. Sasha and martin could be heard yelling at them to not fall down it was muddy- there it is. Tim fell face-first into the mud and Jon was laughing so hard that he slipped and fell backward into a separate puddle of mud. 

Jon pouts at his cardigan getting muddy but realizes that they have a washer and dryer here! So he continues snickering from his little muddy sitting area at Tim, who was spitting out mud.

“I don’t lose that easy!” Tim announces, before getting up and scooping Jon up, getting the both even muddier. Sasha is yelling at them but trying to hide the fact that she also thought it was hilarious. Tim is still holding Jon as he toes off his shoes on the front porch. Jon does the same, his oxfords hidding the wood with a thud. Tim then drops Jon, to which he luckily landed on his feet. 

Martin glares at the both of them, before breaking his serious face with a small smile, “You two are a mess. Go get showers and I’ll start bringing stuff inside. Sasha?”

“Mhm. I’ll start opening boxes and bringing them to the rooms they go to.”

“Has anyone told you that your organization voice is very sexy?” Tim said, wriggling his eyebrow. Martin and Jon shared a fake gag, and Sasha snorts, smacking him gently on the arm,   
‘You all laugh like my love is a joke!”

“You are a messy joke- got get clean and hope I decide to give you a towel.”

“You say this like I would be ashamed to walk around naked.” Tim says before giving a look that said he would in fact do this. Martin fake gags again and Tim gasps.

Jon rolled his eyes, “As much as I hope your er, stripper career gos, I am going to go get a shower.”

“Was that a joke Jonathan! Hey quit running in the house you rule breaker!” Tim grins before going to ge his shower in the other bathroom.

\----------

“Oh he’s so cute do we have to wake him up?” Sasha whispers, Jon’s ear twitches, and he yawns. Ah yes he remembers now that he had fallen asleep during their break from unpackin, laying in the direct sunlight and purring. He sits up blearily, before seeing Sasha and Martin standing over him. 

“I am not cute.” He says with a sniff, and goes to hep Tim unload more boxes, even though he couldnt carry that many.

\--------

“Bad news! One of the bed’s is completely broken, like mattress torn bad.” Tim says, before Jon looks a bit embarrassed, and said a quiet sorry. Tim shook away his concern, “That just mean someone is sleeping in the hammock tonight.”

“Do not tell me you put a hammock up in our livingroom Tim.” Martin already knows thats exactly what Tim did.

“I volunteer tim for the hammock.” Jon says holding up his clawed hand, “These rip up everything and I don’t want to ruin your things. At least the bed I ripped was my own, if anything I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

“Nooo Jon you’ll get all grouchy.” Sasha gives a whine before laughing at his glare. 

Jon shrugs, “How terrible, as if I’m not always such a lovely person.” 

Martin gives a small huffy laugh, “We could try and pull out the couch from the moving van.”

“Oh hell no it’s way too slippery on the walkway, someone’s gonna fall and break a hip.” Sasha says, “We’re old people now, with our house and stuff, cant be breaking bones now!”

“Well he and Martin could just share for the night and then we get the couch for Jon until he finds a new bed!” Tim looks very proud, and martin catches how he is giving martin a look. Oh he hates him so much!

Jon looks at martin, “I don’t want to intrude, it’s your bed-”

“I mean I don't mind-”

“-Truly I’m a boney ball of limbs it wouldn’t even be comfortable.”

“You have literally fallen asleep on him more times than I can count.” Tim cuts in, and Jon hums. Martin scrambles before just giving a smile.

“It’s really no trouble. Even if your feet are freezing.”

“Hey now I just get cold-”

“You are always cold Jon! You’re also a sweater thief, I swear you don’t wear your own jumpers half the time!”

“They are comfortable I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Just admit that you are a warmth stealing little cat man!”

“I will not comment.”

Sasha and Tim are in the background of their playful fight and making kissy noises, and using their hands to imitate their friends. They get to the point where their fake argument ends up dissolving into them unable to help their laughter. 

“But really, no problem. As long as you don’t steal my blankets.”

“I will not be promising anything of that sort-”

“-Oh you’re a cover monster!”

\-------

Sasha and Jon are sitting on the floor unable to sleep, Jon is researching something on his laptop, feeing unbelievably bored. 

“Want some ice-cream?” Sasha said, holding out a spoon.

Jon shrugged, “Not in the mood to kill my stomach.”

“Oof lactose intolerant?”

“Yep, a lovely new perk of the cat attributes.”

“Damn.”

“You’re so eloquent while tired.”

“Shut up dictionary boy.”

\------

Even when they bring the couch in, Martin wakes up with an armful of Jon. And when he buys a bed he still likes to spend his nights curled up with someone.


	6. Domestic to make up for my crimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgie comes and visits!

“Please do not.” Jon said, catching Tim before he was going to take a picture of him, laying on the cat tower that Martin made. He had very much loved it, and he knew for a fact Tim as laughing at him. He looks up now, seeing that Tim had already taken the picture. “I am refraining from calling you something very rude right now.”

“Oh please you love me.” Tim says holding his phone languidly and waving it at him, and Jon rolls his eyes from his seat, “This is going to Georgie.”

“Now this is betrayal.” Jon moves his book away, tapping the bookmark back into place.

Tim snickers at his phone, “Georgie says to push you off.”

“No she did not!” Jon jumped from his spot, landing on his feet, and then dusted himself off as if he was a dignified professional, and then looked over Tim’s shoulder, “She did!”

Martin starts laughing, and his phone buzzes, “Thanks Tim!”

“You are all awful.” Jon says, giving a fake glare, leaning back on the cat tower. 

Sasha snorts, and then walks over and picks him up, something they had all done --and discussed with him before doing so, when he said it’s ok when they’re at the house. He kicked his feet, tail flicking. 

“You are way lighter than I had thought honestly.” Sasha says, and Jon just stayed like long cat. 

“You are all awful.” Jon repeated. Before kicking his feet again, “Alright let me down or I’m clawing you.”

“Aye aye foul play.” Sasha says, before setting him down like he asked. He secretly was pleased they all listened to his boundaries. It was the bare minimum but still, he was used to not getting listened to. He then looked at the time. 

“Georgie said she was coming to make fun of our house at noon.” He hummed, and Martin leaned over his shoulder to read the phone screen.

Tim laughs, “Perfect, who wants to cook? I did last night.”

Martin shrugged, “Sure. I can probably start with my baking too.”

Jon side eyed the crockpot, “I think I’ll cook something for myself. If thats ok?”

“Yeah. No problem, I know Georgie’s vegetarian.” Martin says, “Who went grocery shopping last?”

Jon and Sasha gave a noise of affirmation, “I’ll start on my food and then vacate the kitchen for you.”

“No it’s alright, I wont need much kitchen space. And no Tim you aren’t allowed to help me with baking you make a mess.” Martin said, interrupting whatever Tim was going to say. 

Tim’s mouth opened and closed, then opened and closed, “Hey!”

“I know you!”

Jon smiled softly and went to go start on his things. He turns on the crockpot, getting everything together. He really didn’t want to seem ungrateful but most of the time he had to make his own meals, since he couldn’t really handle eating or digesting foods that weren’t mostly meat. Jon glared at the ingredients on the counter, before pouring chicken broth into the crock pot. 

Martin came in, and went to start on making bread, “So do you think you could help knead? I want to make two loaves and you seem to be good at it.”

Jon catches the joke and rolls his eyes, before giving a small quirk of the lips and nodding, “Sure.”

After starting on the next bowl, and Jon leaving the crockpot to cook, he started kneading the bread for Martin. He hears Tim greeting Georgie at the door, Sasha laughing as they both flirt with their guest. Jon hears Georgie laughing as well, and he feels just a smidge happier for it. Then the sound of paws running greets him. 

Martin looks down and sees The Admiral meowing loudly as their feet. 

Jon meows right back, answering The Admiral’s question.

‘Jon Here! Mom Here!’ 

“Yes, she brought you with her. How are you?” He hums, and The Admiral leaps up onto the counter, Jon swooping in to pick the cat up so he doesn’t get fur all over the counter, and by extension the food, letting him take his place on Jon’s shoulders.

‘Good good! What Jon doing!’ Jon was very proud that the cat had started picking up vocabulary, he had been coming over frequently to be a ‘teacher’ and Georgie had teased him relentlessly for it, but it had worked! He had been able to teach him more than two word sentences, and he was getting better, Jon was a proud cat dad.

“I’m helping make bread.” He answers in english, before reverting to meowing so that he and the Admiral could gossip, ‘For Martin.’

‘Martin! Martin red?’ 

‘Yes, Martin’s the one with red hair.’ 

‘You love Martin!’ 

Jon coughs, hiding his slight surprise, ‘Maybe’

‘He smells Good! Good for Jon! He’s your people!’ The Admiral is certainly a very chatty cat, and Jon hides his small smile, cleaning his hands before going back to helping make bread. He hums at getting dough under his nails, making a displeased noise.

‘I suppose so.’

‘Kiss?’ Jon turned and bonked the Admiral’s head with his own, which is what the Admiral called a kiss. Then Martin gave a little laugh, and Jon turned.

“I still can’t get over that you can talk to him.” Martin says, before he turns and sees Sasha and Tim and Georgie in the doorway.

“You say hi to the Admiral before me?” Georgie says, laughing and quirking her eyebrow.

Jon sniffs haughtily, “He came to me first. So he gets my attention first.”

“Alright catboy.” Georgie ruffles his hair, and her other hand going to pet the Admirals head, before crossing her arms like a mother, “So they were just telling me about the worm lady.”

Jon hums, “Ah. They did.”

“Mhm. I wish I’d have know about it.” She is being very passive aggressive and Jon awkwardly stands there. He makes a few noises trying to come up with an excuse, “You’re telling me now. Story time!”

“I heard storytime!” Tim peeks his head in, “I love storytime!”

“It’s ghost story time.” Martin chimes and Jon groans at the word, “Georgie wasn’t told about the worms.”

“We never told her? Damn.” Sasha sighs, and then Jon shrugs when they looks at him.

“I kind of… forgot she didn’t know?” The Admiral gives a grumble when Jon’s shoulders move and Admiral fixed himself on his perch. Georgie groans.


	7. Nap Tim and reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another soft one bc of the tense cop chapter! I love them and I can't stop thinking about cuddling.

Jon throws off his hat as soon as they are all inside their home. He sneezes and then looks at them, “That woman smelled so strongly of dog that I think I am going to be hissing at the archives for days until the smell leaves.”

Sasha snorts, “yeah I could tell, you were trying not to be all prickly.”

“I don’t want to get arrested!”

Tim hummed, throwing his bag by the door and stretching his arms over his head, “None of us do. Now who wants me to call and get takeout?”

“That’s so expensive, and we’d have to leave the house again.” Martin says, taking off his coat and putting it on the coat rack.

“Aw that means someone has to cook.” Sasha said, before putting her finger on her nose, “Not it.”

“Not it-” “Not It!”

“Martin said it first!” Sasha crowed and Tim sighs, giving an overly drastic arm wave.

“What about Jon?”

Jon raises a brow at them, “I always make my own food. You don’t want the carnivore in charge of dinner.”

“Ah shit should we call Georgie and tell her what’s up?” Sasha muttered, throwing her hand over her head and then running it through her hair.

“Nooooo I forgot that Georgie would have out heads on a steak if we didn’t tell her.” Tim says.

Martin rolls his eyes, “i’ll tell her. Tim go make food, Jon…” He pauses and Jon blinks up at him, “-You go do whatever.”

“Look at Martin being the big boss of the house.”

Martin laughs, “I think I’m the only one who acts their age.”

Tim dramatically gasps, “Slander! You’re like the youngest person here!”

Jon hums, and flexed his hands, yawning, before going over to them and headbutting them all in the chest, sans Sasha because Jon didn’t want to headbutt her boob. She ran her hand through his hair and he sighs, Tim pat him three times on the head.

“Alright alright, you three are cute but I am going to be a responsible adult and cook dinner.”

“Love you Tim!” Sasha said, bootybumping him affectionately. 

Tim grumbles playfully, before going to start on something quick and easy for dinner. 

Sasha sighs, “Someone should come be he housewife. I’d raise my hands but I refuse to be a housewife. Sexism is not it.”

Martin shrugs, “Honestly, being a housewife sounds kinda fun, but we have to pay for the house-”

“And we are all working on an archive salary.” Jon finishes, and they know that Martin is grateful for not bringing up his other money issues. Tim in the other room was taking out pots and pans, and Jon stretches again, going to make himself some food. They had started worrying about his diet when sometimes he would just eat cat treats instead of a meal. But now he was consistent, and if he didn’t eat, someone would make him food.

Thats how it worked for all of them though, they looked out for each other.

\----------

Jon was laying on the couch, tired from the day and laying on the heatpad like a bastard. He was reading, but had started to feel drowsy and let the book sit to the side. He curled up until he heard some whispers. He lifts his head slightly, glaring at the noise and Martin laughs softly, “Can I sit here or are you king of the couch?”

He wriggles slightly, “if you truly want to sit down.”

Martin smiles, and carefully moves some thing and sits down. Jon lifts his head and lays it on Martin’s lap. Today he had felt a bit sad, suddenly spoiled by his friends. He wasn’t used to getting hugs, or laying down, or being comfortable. The book was a curse, and yet he felt a bit happier now than he did before it. 

He feels a hand running through his hair, softly scratching his scalp, and feels himself purring quietly. Martin seems to have one hand occupied with a small book of poetry, which Jon had scoffed at to the amusement of the man reading it, and the other hand absently running through hair. Then he felt Martin carefully scratch under his chin and he melted. 

Tim walks in, and Jon is dead to the world, purring and happy, while Martin is reading his poetry. He smiles softly, “Wow Marto, hogging the communal cuddle buddy?”

“Oh hush.”

Jon’s tail flicks, meaning he was listening and Tim laughs, “Can I sit down?”

“Fine.” Jon mumbles, still looking happy as he could be. Tim felt a bit happy, to be able to see his friends now happy, warm, comfortable. It was a nice reminder that they were in it together. It was a difference from the timid Martin and the once prickly and angry Jon. And maybe something had changed about him too, in the soft lamp light as he carefully moves Jon legs and replacing them over his lap. Jon didn’t seem to mind laying on them so Tim was playing with Jon’s hair, braiding the now long black and grey mess.

Sasha comes in with a cup of hot cocoa and then smiles softly, setting her drink down to take a picture on her phone, and then one on the polaroid. She came over and placed a kiss on all three of their foreheads before sitting at the end of the couch, away from hem for now, not wanting to be squished. They respected her boundaries.

She holds her cocoa and starts to scroll through her phone, checking things, hacking facebook as she did, and enjoying herself in the company of others. Tim smiles and asks without words if he can kiss her hand. She nods, and he does, letting her taker her hand back, now satisfied. After finishing her drink she sets it down, and takes a blanket to curl up in.

Jon’s purring was the only noise in the room, soft vibrating on their laps, until he fell asleep, and the other two did as well. Sasha laid a blanket across them, and then went to sleep herself. The day was stressful, but they got through it, and everything would be alright. As long as they stayed together, and kept working through it with communication and boundaries, they think they will be ok.


	8. his people!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy shenanigans. Takes place after chapter 16 of the first installment in da series.

Jon sat on the couch, watching the three of his roomates trying to fix the living room. They had banned him from helping, seeing as he was, “one badly healed wound away from a vet visit.”

  
  


Martin was sitting down and mending the couch with thread and needle while Tim was deep cleaning the carpet so that when they stitched it up the cleaning wouldn’t mess with his work. Sasha was leaving the sewing to Martin, and doing more of a clean than what they thought. She was very annoyed with some dust and that spurred her into scrubbing the bookshelves and windows down. 

  
  


Jon wanted to help, but again, if he tried Tim would sweep him off his feet and sit him back down. He would feel a bit like a child had be not been in pain from his trip to the archives, and then the store. 

  
  


“Can we please play music this is killing me.” Sasha groans, and Tim jumps up to get the bluetooth speaker, “Yes!” She pumps her fist up in the air, knocking her bun loose. 

  
  


The couch-ridden catman smiled softly, “Come here let me fix your bun.”

  
  


“Fine.” Sasha knows that he wants to do something, and well, she likes having her hair messed with. Jon takes the hairtie out and starts combing through her hair carefully, trying not to nick her with his nails. With a precision born of years in uni doing his own hair, and Georgie’s, he mades a brain and then put it up in a bun.

  
  


“There you go.”

  
  


Sasha stands up, “Thanks Jon, you’re really good with that.”

  
  


Jon gives a grumble, but he does look proud of his work. Then he turns his attention to a book he had downloaded on his phone. He was bored just sitting there! Martin finishes his suturing of the couch, “Good as new.”

  
  


“What would we do without you!” Tim says, throwing an arm around Martin’s shoulders. 

  
  


Said man simply laughs, face still a bit red, even after all this he was not used to getting compliments, “yeah yeah, keep your hands to yourself.”

  
  


Tim laughs loud and happy, and Jon is happy his people are happy. He feels a warm contentment settle like, excuse his pun, a cat who got the cream. A weight is lifted off of his chest, and he adjusts his glasses. He blinks and then realises that he couldn’t see through the large glass lenses. He takes then off and blinks multiple times, squinting down before realizing that he didn’t need them anymore. 

  
  


Damn. He liked the way glasses looked on him, he supposes he wont have to deal with his vision getting worse for a while at least. 

  
  


Instead of reading he bats around a pillow, bored but not bored enough to go back to the frankly dreary novel on his book. 

  
  


He could hear someone laughing and he turns an unimpressed face towards Sasha, “Yes?”

  
  


“You bored?”

  
  


“An astute observation, Ms. James, I am truly astounded by your genius at reading people.” He says, and Sasha sticks her tongue out at him. 

  
  


“Rude.”

  
  


Jon smiles slightly, “Maybe I am.”

  
  


“Oh there is no maybe about that statement.” Sasha scoffs, and sits down on the couch next to him, “I am so tired.”

  
  


“Take a nap?” Jon suggests, and she shakes her head. He shrugs, not knowing what else to suggest, instead she lays there and he hums. The company is quiet until Tim holds his hand up with the speaker, and Sasha is reinvigorated. They play loud music, dancing and singing along. Martin taps his foot to it, as he sews up the rug with sparse difficulty. 

  
  


Tim spins Sasha and she laughs loud and sweet, singing along to whatever new pop came across Tim’s spotify radio. They shimmy and dance and even Jon’s hand is tapping to the beat of some inane song that only had like seven words repeated. Martin finishes his chore and stands up, Tim and Sasha pulling him into the dance. It’s nice.

  
  


“We can’t leave Jon out come on!” Tim says, and Martin holds out his hand. Jon just holds out his arms, and Martin laughs, picking him up. They dance with Jon being held up, joining but not straining. 

  
  


When the music finally slows, and their boisterous movement stills, they sit down again, and carefully lay in a way that they sprawl over each other in the most uncomfortable, comfortable way.

  
  
  
  


\--------

  
  
  


He sighs, leaning his head on Martin’s shoulder, not feeling like much of anything. His face hurt a little, and he stretches. Martin looks over from his knitting and raises a brow at his wiggling-ness, much like a bug. 

  
  


“You alright there Jon?”

  
  


Jon looks back, and then headbutts Martin, snuggling closer now with his face buried in soft sweater. Martin moves to make getting closer a bit easier, and he tries not to be so completely endeared, Jon would do this with Tim and Sasha, quit feeling like that. 

  
  


“Yeah Martin. I’m fine.” He says, voice slightly muffled as he laid there. Martin frees one of his hands to carefully run a hand through Jon’s hair, trying not to tangle any hairs. He was glad that this was normal, he thinks, the first time Jon had cuddled up to him after this whole ordeal he had felt very big emotions that he was keen to throw down to the bottom of his consciousness.

  
  


He feels rumbles from the warmth on his chest and then looks down, “What was that?”

  
  


Jon departs slightly and says what he meant to again, “I’m happy you are my people. You, Tim, Sasha. It’s. It’s nice to be yours in return.”

  
  


Martin blinks multiple times, “Ah. The sentiment is shared Jon.”

  
  


Then with a barely hidden chagrin, Jon gets up and stutters out an excuse to leave the living room. Martin watches and knows that his face was getting very very red, his ears were warm. That was not something he had expected, but he knew that Jon didn’t seem to have much thought to it. Always impulsive and running away it seems. Still, the thought was nice.

  
  


Martin went back to knitting, trying to his his flustered face behind the bright red yard he was using to make a sweater for Sasha.


	9. pining in my catboy fanfic?

Jon shoots up out of bed and then looks around. Martin is still fast asleep, something he finds to be incredibly cute ( _ Where did that thought come from? _ ); he creeps out of the bed carefully, padding his way to the kitchen. Checking the fridge, he feels a pang of hunger, and he pulls out cold leftovers from the day before. Not bothering to get cutlery he sits down on the counter crosslegged and stabs a nail through the cold fish. 

  
  


He has no clue what to do at the moment, just feeling hungry and wanting to- as Tim put it- ‘do zoomies around the house’ until he was tired. Jon wiggles, trying to not sit on his tail with an irritable flick. Annoying appendages getting in his way; with his tail now neatly tucked around him, he continues to eat and think. 

  
  


Instead of waking up the others, he wonders if he should run around outside. It was wet weather though, and the idea of getting muddy took that idea out of his mind. 

  
  


Suddenly his thoughts turned elsewhere. To Martin. 

  
  


He looked peaceful, when Jon had crept out of the room. (Their room in all but name). Hair splayed about, curly and ruffled, looking a strawberry blond in the darkness of the room. Arm tucked under the pillow, and hand almost laid on Jon’s waist. With a confused feeling he wishes he woke up to the cuddling, even if it would have hindered his movement to the kitchen. Rumpled jumper rolled slightly up his arms, showing freckled forearms, and the soft way that his hands curl around the blanket. Jon wonders why he’s thinking about this. 

  
  


His soft hair through Jon’s fingers, looking so peaceful an calm- something that they had not had often-, and maybe waking up with soft bleary eyes as-

  
  


So he looks around for his phone, spotting the traitourous losable electronic on the couch. He must have left it there before going to bed. Jon leaps off the counter carefully, grabbing his phone and then going back to his perch on the counter. He looks at his phone and sends off a message to Georgie. 

  
  


**Jon** : Hello Georgie.

  
  


**Georgie** : Youre up late little man

  
  


**Jon:** Maybe I am. I woke up.

  
  


**Georgie** : Mhm, so what are you up to?

  
  


**Jon** : ‘Catting’ I think Sasha calls it.

  
  


**Georgie** : HAH I love Sasha shes so funny

  
  


**Jon** : Suppose I do too. She is sometimes. 

  
  


**Georgie** : ‘Sometimes.’ So why are you texting

  
  


**Jon** : Rude. Can I not just text a friend in the middle of the night. 

  
  


**Georgie** : I can tell youre struggling with stuff. You suck at small talk. 

  
  


**Jon:** Ok, ok. Yes I am struggling.

  
  


**Georgie** : Spill spill spill spill spilll spilllllll

  
  


**Jon:** I can’t stop thinking about something...

  
  


**Georgie** : oooooooooo

  
  


**Jon** : About Martin.

  
  


**Georgie** : gay. That’s gay.

  
  


**Jon:** Georgie you are not helping me. Stop acting juvenile.

  
  


**Georgie** : You reacted the same way when I talk about Melanie.

  
  


**Jon** : I had a bit more decorum.

  
  


**Georgie** : No you didn’t.

  
  


**Jon** : No I didn’t.

**Jon** : But I do actually need help.

  
  


**Georgie:** Ok I’m listening.

  
  


**Jon** : So I can’t stop thinking about him? And he’s just. Like Martin.

  
  


**Georgie** : Youre very eloquent.

  
  


**Jon** : I know I am. 

  
  


**Georgie** : So you’ve been thinking about him, often? More often than Tim and Sasha?

  
  


**Jon** : Yes. I think so.

  
  


**Georgie** : You know that I can tell you like him

  
  


**Jon** : I like my people Georgina. I like my people. 

  
  


**Georgie:** Alright catboy. You want him to be your Person though. Like your Person person, you want him to be yours.

  
  


**Jon** : ...

**Jon** : ….

**Jon** : Oh my god Georgie do I have a crush.

  
  


**Georgie** : Hole in one, look at him realizing things

  
  


**Jon** : I don’t like it

**Jon** : What if i mess up what I have with all of them because I suck

  
  


**Georgie** : First of all you must be really messed up about this, double texting and capitalization errors?

**Georgie:** Second. Jon. You wont mess it up, don’t be self hating

  
  


**Jon** : I am literally like an oversized cat what if he doesn’t like me that way.

**Jon** : Georgie I am Literally The Worst.

  
  


**Georgie** : Yes you are a big cat, but you’re also Jon. He’d love you

  
  


**Jon** : You cannot know that. I am awful as a partner

  
  


**Georgie** : No you are not, you can be a bit of a stuck up prick, but you aren’t awful

  
  


**Jon** : I hate having feelings.

  
  


**Georgie** : Haha loser. Imagine having feelings

  
  


**Jon** : You don’t feel fear but you certainly feel some other emotions.

  
  


**Georgie:** Bringing up my love life. Harsh.

  
  


**Jon:** Sorry.

**Jon:** I just.

**Jon** : Georgie what the hell do I do? We live together, what if he gets uncomfortable?

  
  


**Georgie:** Ok, but you also literally sleep in the same bed most of the time. That’s a bit achilles and patroclus to me

  
  


**Jon** : Shut up “Sapho and her friend.”

  
  


**Georgie** : ;D

  
  


**Jon** : I have an idea.

**Jon** : What it, I bottle it all up and throw it away. No more feelings.

  
  


**Georgie:** Awful I’d miss bantering.

  
  


**Jon** : You’d miss bullying me.

  
  


**Georgie** : That’s exactly what I said.

  
  


**Jon:** Mean. 

  
  


**Georgie** : Just. Tell him Jon. I promise he’ll feel the same

  
  


**Jon** : You literally cannot know that.

  
  


**Georgie** : I can, I am actually a psychic prophet here to fix your love life

  
  


**Jon** : I hate that.

**Jon** : I would like a new prophet.

  
  


**Georgie** : Suxs to suck. Melanie is my other psychic

  
  


**Jon** : Even worse

  
  


**Georgie** : You two get along so well 

  
  


**Jon** : We got into a fight for three hours

  
  


**Georgie** : That was a debate and you both fell asleep on the couch after sharing cake

  
  


**Jon** : I hate when you’re right.

  
  


**Georgie:** You hate a lot of things. 

  
  


**Jon** : Absolutely true.

  
  


**Georgie** : Lots of things except Martin ;)

  
  


**Jon:** I have decided to take the admiral and run away to the woods

  
  


**Georgie** : Warrior cats real

  
  


**Jon** : Why would you say that to me Georgie

  
  


**Georgie:** Greypaw

  
  


**Jon** : Absolutely fuck you. 

**Jon:** Greyclaw, I am not a child

  
  


**Georgie:** HAHA DID YOU SEARCH THAT UP

  
  


**Jon:** Yes I did

  
  


**Georgie:** OML this is so funny.

  
  


**Jon** : I am hilarious.

  
  


**Georgie** : you’re contact name is now Greyclaw in my phone

  
  


**Jon** : No wait don’t do that.

  
  


**Georgie** : Why are you gonna be Greystar

  
  


**Jon:** I am glaring at you, through the phone.

  
  


**Georgie** : Good. Now go sweep your boy off his feet

  
  


**Jon** : Physically I would drop him, I have twigs for arms. Also its the middle of the night he is asleep.

  
  


**Georgie** : You seemed to fight that cop with those twig arms

  
  


**Jon** : Please let that go.

  
  


**Georgie** : No Jonathan I will never let go of the fact that you were fighting a cop

**Georgie:** Uni Jon is shaking

  
  


**Jon:** I hope uni Jon stays dead.

  
  


**Georgie** : >:p You leave Uni Jon alone he’s just a little stupid

**Georgie** : Go to bed soon, and actually talk about your feelings

  
  


**Jon** : Stop being rational.

  
  


**Georgie** : Go do zoomies around the house

  
  


**Jon** : If I do and wake them up I’m blaming you.

  
  


**Georgie** : YOU ADMIT YOU ZOOMIES??

  
  


**Jon** : Read 2.30 am

  
  


**Georgie:** Jonathan 

  
  


**Jon:** Read 2.30 am

  
  


**Georgie** : Stop sending a read receipt, it worked on me years ago

  
  


**Jon:** Damn.

  
  
  
  


He sighs, and puts his phone face down on the counter. Jon is still thinking about the whole he has a crush on someone thing, which he ver much despises the idea of admitting these feelings to anyone. Georgie was going to lord it over him, he just knew it. To be fair he does the same with her and Melanie. 

  
  


Jon grumbles into his mouthful of leftovers, ears twitching as he tries to think about what to do. Still his mind went to Martin laying in bed, and he wondered how nice it would be to go lay warm with him. 


	10. Friendship is hardly hard won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TWs sound worse than they are. This is really just friendship
> 
> \- Mentions of kidnapping, Jokingly

He and Daisy had traded numbers, and he sees that Daisy texts the complete opposite way he thought she would. Her dry sense of humor is now accompanied by emojis; he finds it both hilarious and annoying that his name in her phone was ‘cat guy’ with three cat emojis. Though it is funny to think that all of her contacts have ludicrous and silly names, even if his was just a bit on the nose. 

  
  


It is three a.m. -- Jon rather thinks it’s nonsense that he keeps waking up at these times, and that it’s hard to go back to sleep, sadly cats are nocturnal, and in turn that means so is he-- in fancy terms that means Jon is bored out of his mind. The idea of working on archive things was just… annoying him at the moment. He doesn’t need to bring his territory into his home; he needed to stretch his legs. 

  
  


An idea came to him though and he texted Daisy, before he realizes that she is probably also asleep. He debates unsending the text, staring small holes into his phone, before the three dots pop up and he waits for a reply.

  
  


His phone buzzes, an incoming call, and he answers, “Yes?”

  
  


“Hey Sims.” Her voice is gravelly from what Jon assumes is sleep.

  
  


“Sorry, did I wake you up? I didn’t think-”

  
  


Daisy on the other end scoffs and he can tell shes rolling her eyes, his tail bristles, “Nah I was awake. I’m getting my shoes on and getting takeout… I’m a bit lonely. Why are you awake you little monster?”

  
  


Jon huffs at the nickname. It was one that had caught him off-guard the first time, but he found it slightly endearing, “Yes well. Nocturnal you know. I wanted to go out on a jog.”

  
  


“Well then, what are you waiting for? I’ll come by and we can go on a jog, go for takeout or whatever. Make an evening out of it.”

  
  


“I really don’t want to intrude and I live so far out-”

  
  


Daisy groans, “I’ll just come kidnap you at this point.”

  
  


Jon goes quiet, hair raising on end. The idea was so upsetting for some reason that he felt like he should stay silent, feeling himself tense.

  
  


“Hey I was joking. It’s ok. If you really don’t want to it’s alright.” Daisy assures, her voice sounding distant as she had probably sat the phone down to get her coat on. She was actually getting ready to go somewhere, and wanted him to go with her. Jon smiles.

  
  


He gives a awkward laugh, “sorry. Uh yeah. I’ll get my coat on.”

  
  


“Good to hear, see you in a bit Sims.”

  
  


“How many times- fine, see you Daisy.” She hangs up and Jon puts his phone down. It would be nice to go on a jog, and after speaking a few times, both in person and over the phone, with Daisy, he felt a bit safer alone with her now. He throws on one of the hats Tim had gotten him and puts changes into clothes better suited for a jog with friends. He decides that, well, it’s late. No one would really be able to see his tail if he wore pants. The worst thing that could happen was someone thinking he’s a furry, and that wasn’t the most horrible thing that could happen to him. 

  
  


He slips on socks and shoes, taking his phone and wallet with him. Jon heads out the door with his keys attached to his belt loop, trying to make the little bell Sasha had attached to his key ring be quiet. 

  
  


**Jon** : I’m going to meet you halfway. 

  
  


**Daisy** : …

**Daisy:** Sounds good. Take a pocket knife just in case anyone tries to jump you

  
  


**Jon** : I have pocket knives on the ends of my fingers.

  
  


**Daisy** : And? Those little razor blades only work if someone is close

  
  


**Jon** : So do pocket knives.

  
  


**Daisy** : take mace then. pepper spray.

  
  


**Jon** : If I say yes and bring it will you stop being like that.

  
  


**Daisy** : Can’t promise anything Sims. 

  
  


**Jon** : Incorrigible.

  
  


**Daisy** : I am, but so are you you furry monster.

  
  


**Jon** : I’m going to scream at you.

  
  


**Daisy** : I’ll bark at you

  
  


**Jon** : Yowling like animals in the streets are we?

  
  


**Daisy** : …

**Daisy:** Shut up and get here soon I’m bored.

  
  
  


Jon puts his phone in his pocket and adjusts his hat, before feeling the urge to just start running. Something that has become much too common. It was hard to stay awake at work when he couldn’t sleep at night, but the warmth of his home (His people. His person. Well. Not his Person just yet) was no longer calling him back; he darted through the darkness like a stray bullet. 

  
  


When he get’s almost to civilization his legs are already tired, but he feels so much calmer, something about running through brush and not stopping was pleasant. Daisy is there leaning against a building, doing something on her phone but seeming ever vigilant if you knew the signs, eyes darting around, hands ready to drop her phone and grab the weapon she probably kept in her pocket. 

  
  


“Sims! Quick timing.” She said playfully, a raised brow.

  
  


Jon laughed a little breathlessly, “Hm. Yes.”

  
  


Daisy stretched, stopping her leaning session against the old brick. He could tell she had not given up working out after quitting the force, but now she was almost his people, so he wasn’t worried about her being bigger than him, “Alright I’m thinking some stew from this 24-hour american place. It’s other food is awful but the Wolf stew is good.”

  
  


“Wolf stew.” Jon mutters, not hiding his snicker at the name, and she elbows him softly, “Mostly meat I’m presuming?”

  
  


“Damn right it is. Also some vegetables are good for you, have you been eating enough calcium you dehydrated bastard? Bones break easy.” Daisy asks, with a little hum.

  
  


Jon shrugs, hitting her with his tail, “I eat enough. Have you been taking your medication?”

  
  


“Deflection Sims.”

  
  


“Deflection yourself, Daisy.”

  
  


They stare at each other for a second and Daisy rolls her eyes and laughs a little, “Anyway. Wolf Stew?”

  
  


Jon hums, tail flicking as they keep walking, “Sounds good. I could probably take some home for lunch later. Less work.”

  
  


“Probably smart. Also take this.” She handed him a water bottle, before grabbing her own from her bag. “Race there?”

  
  


Jon thinks about it, and he feels like he could do that, “Yes I guess so.”

  
  


Daisy grins, and then she puts her water bottle away, Jon does the same, and she takes off before they can both be on equal ground. He almost falls with how hard she ran.

  
  


“Cheater!” Jon yells, before running after her, and then promptly tripping on his shoes. He hisses softly and takes off his shoes and carrying them in one hand as he tries to catch up. 

  
  


“Keep up shorty!” Daisy calls behind her, looking like this was nothing, even with the bag on her back, and Jon huffs. She was laughing, and Jon was starting to catch up. Running was becoming something Jon was better at, even if he hadn’t been used to it before, when he does catch up he almost bowls Daisy over, before running past her. She growls and Jon zooms even faster. 

  
  


“Hey!” Jon says as she knocks him down, no hard feelings really, Jon actually rolled but got up and gave chase again. When he catches up the second time, he does in fact knock her down as well. Payback. Jon: 1 Daisy: also 1.

  
  


With a huff he can hear her laughing, and he finds himself being fine with being a bit damp from rolling on the ground. When he hears a playful growl he laughs, “‘Keep up!’” He mimicked back at her. He was breathless but he was having a fun time. Getting knocked down again he sat on his knees and tried to catch his breath. Daisy looks back, and raises a brow. 

  
  


He had gotten used to her silently asking things, not being vocal like his people. Slowly he caught the gestures and motions of what she meant to say. ‘Do we need to stop?’ 

  
  


Jon rolls his shoulders and stands up, as Daisy walks a bit closer to check on him. He hides a small smile as he starts running again, speeding past her.

  
  


“Oh you little-!” Daisy gave chase, hot on Jon's heels as they were both laughing much too loudly for the middle of the night. They had since passed the little place Daisy wanted to get food from originally, and even farther with their game of tag and tackle. Finally Jon dives slightly and takes a seat on a bench, Daisy makes a hard stop and laughs. “You tired old man?”

  
  


“I am not old I just have grey hair.” Jon says takes off his hat to adjust his ears and hair moving it out of his face. Daisy hums, sitting down on the bench next to him.

  
  
  


“That was… Fun Sims. Thank you.” Jon now realizes she looked comfortable. Ah. The chase also meant this small game of tag and catch up, and he realizes why he felt so content. Even in his moments with his people he can't escape the fact that the Prowl was the reason he was like he was. 

  
  


He rolls his shoulders again, “No problem Daisy. It was nice.”

  
  


“Like a couple of dogs playing in the rain we are.” She elbows him softly, and he headbutts her shoulder. 

  
  


“I am not a dog.” Jon retorts indignantly,

  
  


She rolls her eyes, “Cats. What can you do?”

  
  


“Oh please-” Jon is about to go on but then Daisy raises her hand. He waits, and she takes a deep breath.

  
  


“Sorry. I needed a second.” She said, sounding a bit torn up about something. Jon cocks his head, and then leans his head on her, offering a silent comfort. “I miss Basira.”

  
  


Jon nods from his spot, “I know.” He wont tell her to go to anyone, wont tell her that he knows Basira misses her too, he doesn’t want to influence her from whatever choice she takes. He was a wee bit scared of Basira- but who wasn’t?

  
  


She hums, “Alright. Enough of that mess, lets go get something to eat.”

  
  


“Alright. I could do with something after that.” He gets up, and offers his hand. 

  
  
  


She takes it, he helps her up out of the seat even if she doesn’t need it, and they can again feel the claws on their wrists. Just like before. A promise. 

  
  
  


“I’m paying.”

  
  


“Absolutely not. “


	11. Pining x2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I threw some ominous words at you like an hour ago, I'm feeding the JMarts

Martin sighed into his poetry, he really wished his crush would go away. Jon probably doesn’t see him like that, really. Not after everything, that also brings up the question if Jon even wants to date, considering the whole part cat thing. Gosh he’s thinking way to much into this, and his mediocre poetry was all about the curve of his jaw, the softness of his hair, how easily braidable it is, how his eyes flash like gold.

  
  


God he was so far gone for someone who probably doesn't even like him back. Martin groans again, and rips out the page, not wanting that to be in his notebook for someone to stumble across. He trusted Tim, Sasha, and Jon; however, he also knew that they could grow very curious. 

  
  


“Whatcha up to Martin?”

  
  


“Fucks sake Tim! Normal people don’t sneak up on a other people!” Martin jumps, putting a hand over his heart- which was now beating twice as fast-, before turning and seeing Tim look at the crumpled piece of notebook paper. Tim grins, and he holds it out, as if Martin hadn’t just wrote it. 

  
  


“Sooo, whos the lucky person?” He says, before he turns the paper back to himself and reads it again, now with a more critical eye. 

  
  


Martin snatched it away, face red, crumbling it again, “Hey!”

  
  


“Wait- golden eyes, practical purring- is this?” Tim’s eyes gained a sparkle that spelling nothing but bad news for Martin. He got this look whenever he did something stupid, or when he finds something funny.

  
  


“Please shut up-”

  
  


“-Oh this is definitely about-”

  
  


Martin was going to scream, “Tim I am begging you-”

  
  


“This is about Jon isn't it!” Tim crows and Martin smacks him on the shoulder. 

  
  


“Shhhh! Shut your trap!” Martin hisses, smacking a hand over the other man’s mouth, and then making a shushing gesture, “You- you mind your own business!”

  
  


Tim is grinning against Martin’s hand and then moves it away, putting a finger up to his own lips, “Ok ok. But it’s totally about Jon.”

  
  


“I literally hate you.” Martin said, and Tim just smiled even wider. He lived off of being a bully to his poor poor friends. 

  
  


“You know what this means Martini Glass?” 

  
  


Martin’s hand goes to pinch the bridge of his nose, moving his glasses slightly askew, “It means nothing Tim Stoker-”

  
  


“No no no, it means matchmaker time.” Tim crosses his arms, “We need to tell Sasha she will so help.”

  
  


“No stop please-”

  
  


He practically shouts, “Let’s get you a catboy boyfriend~”

  
  


Martin slaps his hand over Tim’s mouth again, shushing him again, “I swear you’re trying to tell the whole world!”

  
  


Tim laughs, muffled by the hand, but then gets serious, “No man, I’m sorry. Serious time. But for real, how long have you had a crush on our resident stack prowler?”

  
  


He has to think about it, but the answer seemed pretty embarrassing, “Since we got transferred to the archives…”

  
  


“Wait wait wait, you liked him even when he was all ‘grr get out of my office, you’re all silly and not worth my time’?” Tim asked, “Like, regular prickly boss? Like the Jon that got annoyed when you brought him tea? That Jon? That one?”

  
  


Martin’s face was still red, and his ears felt hot, “Listen- ok, he had a charm-”

  
  


“The charm of my grandad- Martin what the fuck?”

  
  


“Be nice!” Martin waved his hand, before realizing he was getting loud from embarrassment, “Please don’t tell him, I’m literally begging you.”

  
  


Tim puts a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, I won't tell a soul, if you don’t want me too.”

  
  


“Not even Sasha?” He looks back at Tim from where he hid his face in his hands.

  
  


“Not even Sasha. Cross my heart hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” Tim shows his hands, as if to not look like he’s crossing fingers, “Pinky swear!”

  
  


Martin smiles a little, thankful relief in his face, before he sighs, “You can tell Sasha.”

  
  


“Thank God I would have exploded and died.” Tim sags in relief, “Wont say a word to Jon though, promise.”

  
  


“Thanks Tim.”

  
  


“Anyway, tell me about the crush, I want details now Poet.” He elbows Martin’s side gently, and pulls up a chair, “Spill.”

  
  
  
  


\------------

  
  
  


“Alright Sims, something's up with you, why’re you all mopey?” Daisy said and Jon spluttered, looking offended. 

  
  


“I am  _ not  _ ‘mopey’.”

  
  


She raises a brow, incredulous, “Uhuh?”

  
  


“I’m just- thinking.” He says, voice getting that octave it does when he's lying terribly.

  
  


“Thinking about mopey things.” She replied, just to get a rise out of him. Daisy found it incredibly funny when Jon got all huffy at her, and his hair puffed up.

  
  


He scoffs, “You are the worst.”

  
  


“Nah.”

  
  


“Wha- you cannot just say nah-”

  
  


“Just did!”

  
  


Jon huffed, crossing his arms and glaring with the heat of an ice cube, “Irritating.”

  
  


“Yeah I am. So, you gonna tell me what’s got you looking like a sad clown or am I going to have to needle it out of you?” She asked, leaning into the couch more, messing with her tank top strap. Her hair was growing out again, but in an awkward way that make her hide it with a hat.

  
  


He rolls his eyes, “Nothing.”

  
  


“That did not sound like nothing. Out with it you furry monster.”

  
  


Jon practically pouts, “Fine. I’m thinking about Martin.”

  
  


Daisy raises a brow, cocking her head, looking ready to go have a 'talk' with someone. “Did he do something? Do I have to go beat him up for you?”

  
  


“No- no don’t beat him up. I just. I'm thinking.”

  
  


“Ohhh.” Her eyes widened with a knowing spark, a small grin growing on her face.

  
  


“What does that noise mean?” Jon asked, tailing flicking irritably.

  
  


Daisy sits up and gets into his space, “You like him.”

  
  


“Wha- how-” He stumbles and Daisy raises a hand to shut him up. Jon irritably bats at her hand, like it were a toy.

  
  


“You got all mopey, but you’re not mad at him. Your eyes get all big and dilated when you talk about him, your voice goes up an octave, and your face is is getting very red at the idea that you've been caught thinking about him. Classic signs of affection. Also I can smell it on you. Like a strong cologne of stinky cat and longing.”

  
  


“That’s deplorable.” Jon says, but doesn’t deny anything, "Also I am not a stinky cat-"

  
  


She laughs, “Yes you are, don't deny it. Anyway, tell me about it. I’d prefer to listen to something interesting- the TV channels are shit.”

  
  


“Go listen to the Archers if you are so interested in something to listen to.” He huffs, not including the fact that he also listened to the Archers with her.

  
  


“Nope, I want to hear about it.”

  
  


He huffs again, his tail wrapping around his crossed ankles and ears flat, “Fine. I’m just thinking about him. He’s…” he crosses his arms, “He’s nice.”

  
  


“Uhuh.”

  
  


“I like the way he makes tea, and that he knits his own sweaters; also he bakes when he’s bored on Saturdays, and listens to that lofi music playlists on youtube.” Jon’s brows scrunch up, “And he reads horrible poetry out loud but his voice makes it ok.”

  
  


Daisy looks at him and his face heats up, “Yeah? No keep going this is cute. Like watching a romcom but without the irony.”

  
  


“My life is not a romcom!”

  
  


“Whatever you say Sims. Keep talking about your boy.”

  
  


Jon huffs and slouches down a little, “You’re so mean to me.”

  
  


“That’s my job little man.” Daisy says, putting an arm around Jon, “You signed up for it.”

  
  


“I would like to return the package.” He says playfully, and she snorts, shaking him around a little, “Hey now, shaking cat syndrome is a real and serious thing-”

  
  


This causes her to laugh even more, and he feels accomplished, before she quiets down again, “So what are you gonna do? Couldn’t you just go up to him and ask him to be your Person or whatever? He definitely likes you back, don't you both literally sleep in the same bed?”

  
  


“I can’t do that! And! Friends share beds all the time. And what if me saying anything ruins what we have already, there's so many things that could go wrong! I could think of ten different bad scenarios and I don't like that ratio.”

  
  


She rolls her eyes, “Uhuh?”

  
  


“And he probably doesn’t even like me!”

  
  


“Uhuh.”

  
  


“And what if he never wants to talk to me again!”

  
  


“Uhuh.”

  
  


“Is that the only sound you know?” He says irritably, and she grins, shaking him again, ruffling his hair with her knuckles. He hisses at her, batting at her hands again.

  
  


“Yep! And you only know how to be a mopey pining sad man.”

  
  


“Ugh!” he throws his arms up in defeat, "You and Georgie are so alike. No help!"

"Georgie knows?" Daisy crowed, looking delighted, "how long have you liked him?"

"Ugh!"


	12. The Catnip Video

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I had talked about the catnip video in the other fic, I decided to have jus a little drabble.

(The camera turns on, and one can hear Georgie’s voice and Melanie laughing the background. She angles the camera down, and there is Jon and the Admiral laying on the floor, there is a green leaf-like substance on the carpet, and Georgie laughs. 

“I gave the Admiral catnip without realizing that it would affect Jon too.” She giggles again and Melanie was holding up the container in the background.

Both of the feline’s (or semi-felines in Jon’s case) were rolling on the floor meowing at each other, and just looking absolutely off their shits. Georgie knew that the catnip would only last like ten minutes so she wasn’t worried though, but she did find this hilarious. The Admiral and Jon both start purring on the ground, before zooming off into the other room. Melanie was still cackling in the background, her head thrown back in laughter.

“Oh my god they’re so cat zooted!”

“Zooted-” Georgie snorts. She would be worried if she didn’t know exactly how it affected cats, but if he and the admiral acted the same, then its probably fine.

The video cuts for a second before it turns on again, pointed under a bed where Jon and the Admiral were napping. Georgie decided not to wake them.)


	13. Jon and Daisy flavored hurt comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lot of talking about feelings. I think that she deserves to feel things!!! Let them be besties!

Daisy and Jon were sitting in her flat, not really talking but existing in the same space. Daisy was sad about something, Jon knew, both of them had a lot on their minds. Though he was still worried, whenever Daisy was trying not to be sad she smelled like wilted flowers. His tail flicks as he stares over at her on the couch, “Are you alright?”

“I broke it off with Basira.” She said quietly, looking like a beaten down dog, staring up at the ceiling. Jon frowns softly, getting up from his spot on the ratty armchair and moving to sit on the couch with her; he carefully situated himself and Daisy leans onto him like a limp doll. Hesitantly he pats her head very softly, like his grandmother had told him to do with any dogs people let him pet.

“I’m sorry Daisy.” He says, and she lets out a melancholy noise, her smile almost downturned. Jon knew it would be hard for her, but he kind of saw it coming. Still it hurt to lose your people.

A few seconds of silence stretch, the sound of buzzing in the other room from the fridge was careful and deep, they could hear the workings of the water pipes, “What if I did the wrong thing, Sims?”

Jon leans his head on her arm, “I trust that it’ll be ok. If it’s what felt right, then it might have been. Do you regret it?”

“... I don’t know.” Daisy says, “I mean…. I think I’ll… I’ll regret losing her. She was my best friend, my partner in everything for years. We got sectioned at the same time, and we hit it off like a bullet. I went to the pub with her on Fridays, and we shared stories about everything. She never drank, neither of us did, we just liked the anonymity the pub gave us. We’d order food, and share it, do nothing for hours.”

He nods along, and Daisy resituates herself, sighing, “But I don’t want to be a monster anymore. I don’t want to think she’s a bad person.”

“I know.” Jon says quietly, he’s quiet, and he knows that Daisy doesn’t think Basira is a bad person. “I know.”

“I miss her.” Daisy’s face is forlorn, looking tired from the emotional weight of the conversation, Jon curls closer and puts his arms awkwardly around her shoulders. Usually they would both dance around an issue with a tad bit of banter, but now wasn’t the time to make quips or start quarrels. “I miss her.” She repeats.

Jon nods, “I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault, just. Have no clue what to do.” Daisy said, her r’s rolling a bit more, “It’s not like you’re a beacon of mental health advice and emotional stability, Sims.”

“Ouch.” Jon said, not really hurt but it felt right to say, made her laugh even a small bit. She sighed, and her hand came up to her face, smoothing her awkwardly growing hair down. The scraggly bits scratched her skin slightly, and Jon watched carefully, leaving the air empty for her to fill. She hadn’t been one to talk before this, but the careful quietness and soft air left to mold, made some things bit easier to say.

“What do you think?”

Jon was not the best about emotional advice, as she had said, but he could try, “I think… I think that you did what you thought was best Daisy. If you couldn’t have repaired it, then I think it was best to do what you did.”

“It was so hard.” She said lowly, “Sorry this is a lot.”

“It’s fine Daisy.” Jon replied, and he holds her hand carefully. She squeezes it tightly, and Jon waits again.

“God I just cut it off. Like that. Like she wasn’t the most important thing to me for years.” 

“It’s better to be done with it.” Jon says, “It’s like… quitting cigarettes, it’s hard, but the faster you get rid of it, the happier you get. Healthier too.”

“I’m just… I mean I’m glad that it worked out the way it did. I don’t want to fight her, even if I wish she had stayed.”

Daisy maneuvers herself and her head is buried in his hair, just there to breath, even if the fur made it hard. Jon stayed there though, playing the part of pillow-pet for a moment. “It will get better Daisy. Promise.”

“Yeah. I know it will. Does it ever stop hurting letting someone go?” She asked, muffled by hair, before she shakes her head, “You self-isolate too much for me to ask that question.”

“Rolling in comments today are you?” Jon quirks a brow, but pats her head again, “It still hurts to leave someone even if they hurt you. Enable you. Even if it’s the best choice.”

She sighs again, like a tired animal, “I guess so. You make a good point. Hate to admit it.”

Jon huffs at her, patting her head and she gives a small small smile. He lays there and hums, “If it makes you feel better, I can be your people, not really the same but-”

Daisy stops him, “I already thought of you as my people Sims, who do you take me for?”

“Ah, well same here.” Jon says, before his stomach makes a noise. He blinks a few times, as the noise had been a bit louder than the somber mood.

Daisy snickers, leading them both to laugh a little, “Hungry are we?”

“Yes yes, all the emotional advice made me quite peckish.”

“I hate that word.” She fake gags.

“Me too.” Jon says, before they both get up to see if they can make food, and Jon has an idea, “maybe you could come to the house, have dinner with us. It’ll be nice. No. No pressure or anything- you don’t have to, just-”

“Yeah Sims, sounds good.” She says, and theres a smile in her voice, if not on her face, “Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that you are very strong. Letting people go is hard, but if in the end it makes you a better person, I'm proud you had that strength. Enabling people is just as bad as hurting them, because you let them think that what they do is ok. It takes a strong person to admit they were wrong, and to get away from these kind of situations. 
> 
> It's healthy to see what you did wrong in the past and grow, and I am proud of everyone for growing <3


	14. Hurt/Comfort again, because my bones are made of fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Jmart, just because I starved myself of it for 25 (and more) Chapters. 
> 
> TWs:
> 
> -Small bit of depression. Literally just Lonely shenanigans

The door closes, and Jon cocks his head to the side. He had stayed home from work- only because Sasha had kicked him out for being glued to his seat, reading statement after statement. He had spent some of the day with Daisy, running errands and other things, running around town like a couple of ragtag siblings. But even then Daisy had to get going, and Jon was left reading a few books that he had saved to read for later. 

So the door opening before anyone should get home was strange.

It was Martin. He looked… awful. Jon sniffed, and caught the smell of smoke and sea salt. The honey and chamomile smell that he had associated with Martin was faint, and Jon felt immediately on edge. Jon did not very much care for when his people (his person!) didn’t smell like themselves. He got up from his curled spot on the cat tower, setting his book aside and dropping down to the floor. Padding to the front door, he sees Martin putting his bag down robotically and take off his shoes, about to walk off to his room.

“Hello Martin? Are you alright?” Jon says softly, stepping in front of the other man’s line of sight. Martin’s glasses have a glare even as his head is downturned. 

Martin sighs, taking a minute to respond, “God. It’s just. Every day it gets worse. Like I forget that I have something to come home to, that I have friends. It's just cold and numb. I almost forgot to go home yesterday!”

Jon frowns softly, “Martin you don’t have to keep doing that, you’ve done wonderfully already. Even then, it’s not worth your happiness.” 

With another deep breath, Martin takes off his glasses, and sets them down on a side table, “Yeah, but. I’m doing it for a reason. And… I don’t know if he would come after the rest of you, if he didn’t think he had me in his bag.” He would do anything to keep the other three protected from that old bastard.

“We can handle him, Martin, I promise.” Jon says softly, and Martin sighs. There is a hand in his, and Jon leads Martin over to sit down on the couch, and a light push has him sitting at the end. “You stay there, I have something for you.”

Martin raises an eyebrow, but Jon comes darting back with a blanket from their room, and lays it over him. It’s the soft grey one that Martin got Jon when he was having a panic spiral, and the sentiment made him a bit warmer than the blanket itself. Then Jon goes off again, and Martin just watches him go into the kitchen. He can hear the kettle starting, and then he sees Jon climb up on the counter and grab Martin’s favorite chocolate cookies from the top shelf. 

There he goes now, back into the room that used to be his but was now used as an office, and there was the heating pad. Jon plugs it in, and carefully lays it on Martin’s lap, before going back to the kitchen and getting the kettle off the burner, plating the cookies. 

When he comes back with the tea, Martin feels a bit teary-eyed. Jon sets the cups down, and then looks with a critical eye at what all he brought; then he looks at Martin very proud. Martin laughs, his voice a bit watery, “Come here you big goof. You can’t be doing these cute things or I’ll die.”

Jon sits down next to him, and Martin adjusts the blanket to fit both of them, the chill was starting to wear off. He turns and kisses Jon’s forehead.

With a soft headbutt, Jon replies, “Did it work?”

Martin laughs softly, but sighs, even with the joy he got from watching Jon run around trying to get things to make him happy, he still felt numb. Looking up at Martin’s face, Jon hugs him tightly, arms wam around his middle.

“I’m sorry. It really is nice, I just.” He sighed, the weight of the day finally wormed its way past the numbness and settled heavily on Martin's shoulders.

“It’s ok Martin, I can be here if you need me to be, until you feel better.”

He takes a sip from the tea Jon made him, not the best, but it was nice to have something warm, “Ok… thank you.”

“Of course.” Jon carefully burrows into his spot, and Martin adjusts himself, then the silence unsettled him. Reminded him a smidge of the office, when he forgot his headphones.

“Can we turn on the TV?” Martin says, and Jon nods, turning on the TV and switching to the communal netflix account on and going to Martin’s favorite movies. Hemming and hawing until he picked the movie about the little blue haired girl, and Martin smiled softly.

They sit there with the menial background noise, and Martin feels warm. Soft purring lulls him to sleep, with the heating pad keeping his lap warm, the wight of another living thing on his arm, it was nice. And when he wakes up with a slight crick in his neck, Sasha and Tim brought home his favorite takeout.

The Lonely can try and take him, can try and eat the warmth from his bones and seep away his memories of happiness, but it would never succeed. Not with the people he loved being there for him, with Tim and Sasha sitting at the table and throwing their chopsticks at each other, Jon eating as dignified as possible without cutlery because ‘it created more dishes, so no need.’ The TV in the background was playing a documentary, since it was Jon’s night to pick out the movies, and soft music playing from the table where Tim had set his phone. 

With the gentle hugs he got before bed from his friends, and the cat-eared man leaning on his arm during dinner, the nice texts he got from Georgie, Melanie, and even Daisy throughout the days now, telling him about their days, or just showing him that he would not be forgotten, the emails of cat videos from Jon, and the videos of Jon catting around courtesy of Tim, and the emails of Sasha getting on tape the squabbles of the archive teams. One being about Jon and Tim getting into a debate about pi's status as a number.

Music links, and little mugs that the others saw and sent him pictures of, when they were slacking off instead of doing anything interesting or useful. Pinterest boards of cows and tattoos that none of them were brave enough to get. The way when he forgot to make his own lunch someone had made him something before they went to bed.

He was going to be ok, Martin thinks, with the other man kneading the blankets, not knowing Martin was awake and thought it was adorable. He was going to be ok, Martin thinks, hearing Tim and Sasha watching something in their room, being a little too loud but not irritating. 

Martin was warm, when he went to sleep, and would wake up feeling a bit more ready for his tangle with isolation.


	15. Maybe I pspsppspsps'ed at you because I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :3

Jon was sitting on the top of the jon-sized cat tower. Martin was very proud of that, since it seemed to be Jon’s favorite place to sit, other than when he was in someone’s lap or in his office in the Archives. Though he wasn’t paying any attention to anyone at all, his mind in his own world, reading a few books he had scrounged from a charity shop - checked over and over to make sure it wasn’t a leitner. So he was off in his own world, curled up and reading.

  
  


Martin laughed softly, and knitted while looking up every once in a while to see how Jon was doing. He’d move every once in a while, Jon doesn’t even notice the noise of Sasha and Tim getting groceries in. Martin was going to get up and help but Sasha just waved for him to sit back down, hitting Tim with her hip. After the ruckus of them getting their reuse bags through the door -- they had reusable shopping bags since Martin and Sasha cared very much about the reusable movement, they’d use their own utensils for everything too-- he was starting to think that Jon was deaf. 

  
  


Tim slinks in, looking up at Jon in the tower, and then back of Martin, “He been like that all day?”

  
  


“Yes he’s been like that since we woke up this morning.”

  
  


Laughing goodheartedly, Tim leans on Martin’s shoulder, “Never thought I’d see the day your crush on or boss would come through. Though considering what I’ve seen maybe i should expect the impossible.”

  
  


“Oh shove off.” Martin says, rolling it eyes and holding up his knitting needles up threateningly. 

  
  


“He eaten?”

  
  


Martin hummed, “I think so, but I wouldn’t put it past him to forget.”

  
  


Then after a good friendly silence, Tim looked at Martin with an evil grin, “Watch this.”

  
  


“Tim what is the world are you trying to do-”

  
  


He turns to Jon, and Tim goes, “psppspspspspspspspspsp.”

  
  


That one seemed to be too quiet, and Martin throws a yarnball at Tim, “ _Stop that_ -” He was laughing though, so Tim gave it another try. Louder now.

  
  


“Pspspspspspspsps.” Jon’s eyes snapped up, and he was looking over at Tim and Martin with wide pupils. Tim starts laughing, doubling over, “It worked it worked! Martin oh my god.”

  
  


Jon glared,still curled around his book like it was warmth in the winter, “I looked because you were being loud.”

  
  


Tim chokes on his breath, “You’re such a liar! Help me, I’m dying this was too good.” The tears in his eyes were from how hard he was laughing. Martin patted the man’s back.

  
  


“Choke.” Jon said, flipping Tim off, which made the already doubled over man lose it even more, “why would you ever make that noise at me?”

  
  


“Maybe I pspspspsp’ed you you because I-” Tim had to take a second and regain himself, “Because I love you. We want attention!”

  
  


Martin shook his head, “Don’t you drag me into this Timothy.”

  
  


“That isn’t even my real name please-” He took a breath, beating his palm against his chest, “I pspspsps’ed and you actually looked.”

  
  


Jon glares even harder, “I am going to throw something at you.”

  
  


“Like what little man? That cat toy you keep in there as if we don’t see it- _OW WHAT IS THAT MADE OF?_ ” Martin laughs as the bell toy hits Tim square in the face, Tim rubs the bridge of his nose, “Jesus if I knew that making that joke would get me hit I-”

  
  


“You still would have made it don’t lie.” Martin says, and Sasha walks in with a cup of iced coffee in hand.

  
  


“What madness are you three getting into?” She said, taking a sip from her drink.

  
  


Tim points exageratedly at Jon’s place in the cat tower, “I pspspsps’ed at him! It works!”

  
  


Jon huffed, getting down from his spot, “Your brain doesn’t work.”

  
  


“Uncalled for!” Tim says, putting an arm around Jon’s shoulder, “pet?”

  
  


“Your petting privilege has been revoked since you are irritating.” Jon says, before pushing his head closer, signalling that it was a joke. Tim pet his head, scritching softly, and Jon hummed, “You’re a mence.”

  
  


Martin laughed, and then pointed to the yarn ball on the floor, “Hey Tim could you possibly hand me my yarn?”

  
  


“You threw it at me! I will not, I am enjoying time with my friend.” Tim says before letting go of Jon and grabbing the yarn and launching it back at Martin. Martin did not miss how Jon’s eyes followed the yarn ball before shaking his head. This was also noticed by Sasha, who took one of the yarn balls that Martin hated using because it wasn’t as soft, and kicked it towards Jon, who watched it roll.

  
  


Tim noticed this and picked up the yarnball and tossed it gently over to Jon, who caught it without realizing, stumbling slightly. Jon blinked, and raised a brow, “I should throw this back at you lot.”

  
  


“Oh my god give it here.” Sasha said, taking the yarn ball, and throwing it up, caching it in her hands. She sits down on the floor and rolls the ball to Jon’s feet, “You can play with the yarn ball dork, we wont bully you.”

  
  


“Speak for yourself- _hey!_ Kidding! We really wont stop you from having fun, it’s probably better to have you doing something that doesn’t include shoving your face into a book.” Tim says, sitting down as well. Jon looks at them both, unsure. He had chased a laser for them in Martin’s flat during the Prentiss ordeal, and they hadn’t made fun of him for it. And they were much past him needing to be professional.

  
  


Jon sat down on the floor too, batting at the yarnball back to Sasha. She rolls it to Tim who then rolls it back to Jon. Martin watches with a smile, knitting while still watching. He raises a brow, before taking a picture on his phone of the three on the floor, and then one of Jon who had gotten a claw stuck in the fibre of the yarn. 

  
  


After a while of the three of them playing the roll the yarn game, and then the get Jon unstuck from his kitty yarn prison game, they decided to start on dinner.

  
  



	16. Soft and soppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am literally uploading this in my accounting course, so if it looks shoddy be kind

They had all woken up at noon the next day, and well. They weren’t about to go back to work, especially not with their jerk-off boss that they decided not think about at the moment. Jon was still curled, but he didn’t want to get up. It was warm and comfortable, with his people there with him. Sasha was petting through his hair, he was purring quietly; Martin’s arm was wrapped around his waist, and there was a leg trapping him down, said leg belonged to Tim.

  
  


“Who’s stomach just grumbled louder than the wii startup?” Tim said, his voice tired and grumpy. Sasha snorted, and Jon pulling his hand to his chest. 

  
  


“Rude, I am going to get takeout and not get you anything.” Jon said back, before his stomach went again. Ugh, not the time to be playing any games, he felt a little sick at the moment.

  
  


Martin sat up and rubbed his eyes, “I’ll make breakfast, yours too Jon.”

  
  


“Oh. Thank you.” Jon felt three days worth of hunger crash down on him, but he really didn’t want to get up. 

  
  


Sasha’s hand left his hair, and he glared at her with no heat. She laughed softly, and sat up herself, “I’ll help. I need to use the bathroom anyway. Get off me Tim or I’m pushing you off the bed.”

  
  


“Don’t do that, I’m fragile!” Tim exclaims from his spot, Sasha was also trapped under his leg, so she pushed his leg off of her. With mock betrayal, he gasps, “Jon is the only one here who loves me.”

  
  


Jon hummed lowly, and buried himself in the open arms. Tim held him tight, and Sasha rolled her eyes, “You’re just warm and Jon is a thief.”

  
  


“Wow is that true?” Tim asks and Jon headbutts him in the chest, “Oof, ok ok. As much as I would like to stay in bed and nap, you stink.”

  
  


“You’re an ass, but yes fine. I’ll go get a shower. My skin feels gross anyway.” Jon says, and the other three look concerned. He sits up and stretches, getting out of bed with a yawn. Then he looks a bit embarrassed, “Could I leave the door open a crack?”

  
  


Martin gives a small nod, “yeah, of course.”

  
  


He gets up and goes to grab himself some clothes, snagging a hoodie and comfy pants, before taking the ugly fuzzy socks Sasha had given him once. He gets into the shower, and feels a bit more comfortable, sighing at the hot water. It was his hair washing day too, so he combed the dirt and plastic from his hair. Maybe he should get Sasha to braid it? He’ll ask after the shower. After scrubbing the smell of cheap lotion and just everything gross from himself, feeling clean.

  
  


The clothes were warm, and he dried his hair with a towel. Jon leans his head out of the bathroom door, looking out into the hall, Tim was walking out of Martin and Jon’s room holding a fuzzy grey blanket, and then spotted him, holding the blanket out, “Got this for when you got out. We’re making hot chocolate after breakfast.”

  
  


A voice called from the kitchen, “More like lunch! We slept like the dead.”

  
  


“I hear you talking about iced coffee, Sasha James I will smack you if you don’t get me one too!” Tim calls, and Jon smiles only slightly, taking the blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders. He follows Tim into the kitchen, seeing Sasha leaning on the counter talking to Martin, and Matin was actually cooking. Tim snagged a piece of toast, getting smacked lightly with a spoon. 

  
  


Jon looks at them then specifically at Sasha, “Can you- er… braid my hair?”

  
  


Sasha hums, and nods, “Ya sure. Lets go to the living room though. Don’t want to shed on the food.”

  
  


He rolls his eyes but he goes with her, sitting on the floor. She pets through his damp hair for a little bit, and he sighs, his eyes closing and just being ok with having someone be kind when touching him. Then she carefully braids his hair, she was good at it. 

  
  


“Thank you.” He said after a quiet moment. Sasha smiles, patting his head. 

  
  


“No problem.”

  
  


Martin’s voice comes from the kitchen, “Foods ready!” 

  
  


Jon and Sasha get up and go to sit at the dining table. Tim tsked, “Absolutely not, today is a breakfast on the couch kind of day.”

  
  


“Don’s have to tell me twice.” Sasha takes her plate gratefully. It was nice, that Martin knew exactly what they would want, that they knew each other. Tim sits down next to Sasha, and she smacks his hand as he tries to playfully steal her bacon, though if he ever took any, Sasha would steal some right back. Martin sits down and Jonstands awkwardly, before Martin gestures next to him. Jon curled up next to him, and ate his food quietly. 

  
  


They all ate until they were full, content with more than just the food. It seemed like just being there, not having the stress of finding their friend, or the stress of being trapped, was enough to have them all languid. Martin’s phone lit up with a call from the Magnus Insitute and he rolled his eyes. 

  
  


“Should I answer and tell him to fuck off?” He said, and Jon snorted.

  
  


“That would certainly be funny.” He replied.

  
  


Tim looked over, “Answer it and see if it’s Rosie. If not I’m screaming.”

  
  


Sasha wiggled in her spot, “Give some warning before screaming, if you would.”

  
  


Martin pressed the answer button, and instead of Elias’s voice, Rosie’s came through, “oh hello! We’ve been trying to get through to you three, are you alright? I know Jon’s been called in for the next week because of sickness.”

  
  


Tim raised a brow. Seems Elias had gien excuses for Jon’s absence. They wouldn’t take it for granted, “Yeah.” He coughs a few times, and they all get at what he’s doing, “Yeah we’re all pretty sick. Jon’s contagious, so we shouldn’t go in.”

  
  


Jon sniffs raising an amused brow, Martin sniffles falsely. Rosie’s voice is worried, but also curious, “Oh? What did he have?”

  
  


“Strep and the flu, it was a double down.” Sasha said, and Jon sticks his tongue out at her. Her sick voice was doing surprisingly great. Tim was hiding a laugh, and Martin covered his mouth with a fist. 

  
  


“Wow! And now you all have it?”

  
  


Martin coughs, “Yeah. We’ll be fine, just need a few days.”

  
  


“Of course! I hope you four get better, can Jon hear me?” She asks.

  
  


He’s about the answer before Tim covers his mouth with his hand, then making a shushing motion, “Nope, he’s sleeping it off. Ya know how it is.”

  
  


“Alright, you four get better!” Rosie said, she had a nice voice, when not putting up the customer service front. 

  
  


“Will do Rosie, have a good one!” Sasha says, 

  
  


“Don’t have too much fun without us.” Tim called, and Martin hangs up. They are quiet for only a second before they erupt. 

  
  


“Free days off!” Tim says, looking lighter than ever, without the circus to deal with, his revenge got. 

  
  


Sasha grinned, “I think we deserve it. Jon especially.” 

  
  


Jon looked up, and laughed softly, “Sure sure, I think I could use a few days sleep.”

  
  


Martin snorts, and Jon headbutts his chest. 

  
  


\-----------

  
  


That night, Jon and Martin stayed in their bed. A soft hand on Jon’s face made him feel warm, content, he was safe. His nails had grown out again, and he carefully pulled his hand up to touch Martin’s knuckles. It was nice, and Jon didn’t have to look to know Martin was looking at him.

  
  


Jon purred softly, kneading Martin’s sweater carefully. He was peaceful, soft and warm. The blanket laid over them, and Jon took a breath. The smell of teakwood and yarn and chamomile.

  
  


“I keep worrying that somethings going to happen.” Jon said.

  
  


Martin looked at him, “I know. I’m feeling the same…. We missed you.”

  
  


“I missed you all too. I missed you.”

  
  


“I’m glad you’re ok.” Martin said, and Jon smiled. Then he moved his forehead, and Martin kissed his hairline with a snort. “Dork.”

  
  


“Oh hush.”


End file.
